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(Source: heavensandabove)
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I guess the most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen.. just listen! well perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention. a loving silence often has far more power to heal and to connect than the most well intentioned words..
(Source: ohwellsuchislife)
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Roberta flack[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]feel Like Making Love (Cosa Nostra edit 93bpm)
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(Source: ohwellsuchislife)
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(Source: -carrousel)
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“positive thinking isn’t about expecting the best thing to happen every time, it’s about accepting that whatever happens is good for this moment, and then making the best of it.”
so stay positive.. and hold on to what’s truly important. let the worries go, no matter how you look at it.. some outcomes just don’t make sense right away. choosing to carry on with the goals through this uncertainty is what matters!
Source: dumbteenager
Source: ohwellsuchislife
Source: asdfghjkllove
Roberta Flack - Feel Like Making Love
(Cosa Nostra Edit)
Source: ohwellsuchislife
Source: ohwellsuchislife
Source: amaraui
Source: perpetual-silence
Source: ohwellsuchislife
Source: perpetual-silence
she awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy.. and during the course of each day her heart would descend from her chest into her stomach. by early afternoon she was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for her, and by the desire to be alone. by evening she was fulfilled, alone in the magnitude of her grief, alone in her aimless guilt, alone even in her loneliness.. ‘i am not sad,’ she would repeat to herself over and over, ‘i am not sad.’ as if she might one day convince herself.. or fool herself.. or convince others, the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know you are sad. ‘i am not sad. i am not sad.’ because her life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as if it was an empty white room.. she would fall asleep with her heart at the foot of her bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of her at all. and each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of her rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. and by mid afternoon she was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else.. ‘i am not sad’.
∞
